Feverish
by KarotsaMused
Summary: I like snowy mornings, pancake breakfasts, and how he takes care of me when I'm sick. And the temperature skyrockets [58]


A/N: Disclaimer: Saiyuki isn't mine.  
  
Well. Eh, a late-night drabble turned into three pages...and I finished it up this morning. Weird, sweet little morning in Hakkai and Gojyo's house. Two-ish years into their living together. Long enough for them to be able to function as a unit, but before the start of the journey west. Kind of like "Insufferable" and kind of like "Homesick"...but it's got its good points too.  
  
Warnings: 58. Gojyo PoV. And mild cursing. Very mild. The rating's only high because it's a 58. Enjoy, everybody!  
  
.  
  
It's cold out. Frigid, dry cold enough so you wear shorts and bare feet to feel your skin shock alive. I do just that, putting skin on the frozen wood of the porch and letting my legs breathe. I wiggle my toes and grin. This is the good life. Standing bare and chicken-legged on the porch with a cigarette and a sweater. I'll want coffee in a while, but for now I'm going to enjoy the morning.  
  
The world is gorgeous when it's dead. Naked trees and utter emptiness so you can see forever between them despite the heavy layers of snow. Icicles are dangerous daggers. I reach up and pound on the porch overhang, just for the avalanche. Snow and ice crashes down, shattering the perfection on the ground.  
  
I like the clarity out here. I can still feel my legs. The air is clean and dry. Everything is so easy and clear. I can see for miles, both in front and behind. Too bad it only happens here.  
  
I hear Hakkai crashing around in the kitchen, making something that smells deliciously like coffee and a big breakfast. I rub the cigarette out on the porch banister and let it sit in the snow. It could be the cold, so I wrap my arms tighter around my ribs. It could be the cold, but everything got really tense really quickly.  
  
I break an icicle off of the roof, rub it on the leg of my shorts, and lick the rounded point. The cold can clear my head. But my legs ache to reenter the stifling warmth of the inside. I could go and smile at Hakkai like I always have and always will. I could go and warm up, shiver and pull off my sweater. I could go and listen to him chide me for coming outside in bare feet in the first place.  
  
But I could also stay right out here in the cold clarity that allows me to see everything that makes my head ache. What a dream.  
  
I slept hard last night, hard and hot and heavy, so I woke up and had to wait for my body to follow suit. But oh, how I didn't want a certain part to awaken. He's walked in on me before, caught the physical remnants of pleasurable dreams. But those had been normal morning stiffs. I shoved the dream from my mind, looked out the window, and grabbed my cigarettes and a pair of shorts.  
  
Here I am, and here am I. It's cold out. Cold and clear and I can see for miles. I suck on the end of the icicle, feeling my mouth numb in response. Good. This is the flush, caused by cold and nothing else. I color from the bite of the temperature without, not within. Though I am tempted to ditch the sweater, I leave it on and perspire. One arm around my ribs, one hand holding an icicle, numbing my mouth and my throat. I can't feel my legs. I hate my brain.  
  
I dreamed, oh how I dreamed. First, of a quest for the perfect pancake. That one had been fun and strange enough to chalk up to random thought patterns. And yet, pancakes all forgotten, then I crashed into him. His arms came up to cover mine and we kissed. Over and over, we kissed one another's mouths and it bore even more elation than the search for breakfast food. And when he pulled back and smiled at me, his lips were parted and lopsided and genuinely happy.  
  
It's the face I try to get him to wear every day, through gentle joking and friendly companionship. And somehow I believe that this, my used and ugly mouth, will bring him joy.  
  
I bite through the melting ice, spitting out the dirty water and letting the icicle change hands. My sweater is wet to the left wrist.  
  
Perhaps it is my desperate bid for some real reaction out of him that prompted this late-night epiphany. I'm not as horrified as I was a while ago. The feeling hasn't left yet, though. I don't want to look at him. I don't want to have the urge to make him smile.  
  
The screen door opens. Damn him.  
  
"Gojyo? Come inside, man! You'll catch your death out here," Hakkai admonishes, looking me over. "In shorts? Gojyo, have you yet to reveal to me any suicidal thoughts? Please, put on something warmer. I have breakfast ready when you want it."  
  
It takes a few moments before I can force my knees to bend. The cold leaves me exhausted. Unthinkingly obeying, I stagger indoors and only realize I'm still holding the icicle once I get to 'my' part of the house. I open a window and pitch it outside, wriggling out of the sweater, damp from my sweat. A t-shirt, a pair of flannel pajama pants, my house slippers. I return to the kitchen and plop down at the table, willing life into my frozen legs without actually rubbing them.  
  
Hakkai nods his approval once I return to him. He presents me with a mug of coffee and a plate of food. I laugh a bit, suddenly not all that ravenous. Not when pancakes are on the menu. I watch him clean up after himself, arms buried to the elbow in the sink. When he finishes, I've downed a few pancakes and my appetite is returning, if only to give me focus. Hakkai turns to me.  
  
"What exactly possessed you to go on your little half-naked field trip?" he asks, slipping his apron off over his head. I never had an apron until he bought one. How long has it been since he moved in and changed my world? It's hot in here, hot and comfortable and familiar.  
  
I shrug, swallowing before replying, "Feels nice. You should try it, unless you're afraid of baring your legs to the world." I rub my legs together and comment, "They're still cold," with a smile.  
  
Hakkai frowns. "I don't want you to get sick, Gojyo," he says, grabbing a chair and my ankles in one easy movement. All of a sudden, my feet are in his lap and he's massaging life back into my calves.  
  
"The fuh?" I manage to stammer. My elbow rests on the table, fork in hand, pancake on fork, pancake forgotten. His hands are hot from the water in the sink. His fingers are strong and skilled. Blood rushes to the surface of my skin. Including my neck and the tips of my ears.  
  
"Goodness, Gojyo, you're like a block of ice!" Hakkai exclaims, tossing my ratty old slippers away and wrapping his hot hands around my feet. "How long were you out there, anyway? You know that's not safe."  
  
I shake my head. "Not long enough to die. You're getting morbid, aren't you? I barely even went a little numb. Nn. Do that one again." Hakkai nods and runs his thumbs over my insteps again. It'd tickle if it didn't feel so damn' good. This is Hakkai and his cool eyes and his warm touch. So warm I lose the clarity the cold gave me, and the miles in every direction don't matter. The horror ebbed a while back, and I realize I _like_ kissing him. I want to touch him and have him touch me so we can work the knots out of one another and I can see his smile.  
  
"Gojyo, are you feverish? You're flushed. Oh, Gojyo, you _did_ take ill." Hakkai again breaks into my thoughts. I must be some obvious shade of aroused that he's taking for fever. Thank foresight for heavy, heavy, flannel pants. "I know you can't actually get sick just from being cold," he prattles on, putting the back of his hand on my forehead. It feels cool, oddly enough. My feet must be frigid. "But you _are_ more susceptible to disease. There must be something in here that brought it on, and knowing you this isn't the first morning you've pulled this stunt. It might have had weeks to fester! Come on, if you've got a fever I can't very well have you sitting in here. Off to bed with you."  
  
The many nuances of Hakkai's statement are read thusly: I shall now be poked, prodded, protected, and completely supervised until Hakkai is utterly sure of my wellness. In moments I am unconscious or assure him I don't need his help, he will be cleaning the house like a madman to get rid of whatever got me 'sick' in the first place. He will also monitor me in the mornings with a gentle but pointed comment at the ready every time I even think about going outside in winter with shorts on.  
  
And yet, Hakkai will make me food and spend as much time possible keeping me company. Hakkai will massage fever-locked limbs and stay up to change cold compresses on a scalding forehead. Hakkai will sit back and bear witness to fever dreams, relating anything humorous to me later once my senses have returned.  
  
And yet, at the end of it all, he will be so exhausted and weakened that if he doesn't catch my hypothetical illness he will at least sleep for a few days. And when his conscience gets the better of him, I'll have to force him back into bed and live off of instant coffee and takeout for a while. So it has been for as long as he's lived with me, and so it will be for as long as he continues to stay.  
  
He grabs my hand and pulls me upright, leaving a half-finished, pathetic-looking, syrup-drenched pancake behind me. His hand is cold in mine. "Hey," I say, and tug a little to make him stop walking. "Your hand's cold. Probably from me. I don't feel feverish and your hand's the wrong temperature to tell."  
  
Hakkai turns and takes this into consideration. "You're right. I need something closer to my body temperature. Hold still, please." With that, Hakkai grabs the sides of my face and pulls my forehead down to level with his mouth. He presses contemplative lips to my face and it is at that moment I experience the most explosive flush I've ever felt. Even I feel the scorching heat I produce, and this is evidence enough of a fever for Hakkai. When he pulls back, I'm pink as a radish and his eyes are narrowed with worry.  
  
"Gojyo, you're burning up. Please, get into bed and let me get something cold for you. I'm glad you're not in much discomfort, but you can't deny the fever." Discomfort. Sure. But I let Hakkai lead me to the bed, the one bed in this whole place, and push me down onto it. He then rushes off and leaves me to contemplate my navel. This I do quite effectively, wondering how I ever got into this situation in the first place and how I'm going to explain my temperature to Hakkai once he realizes I'm as feverish as he is blonde.  
  
Hakkai returns with a wet, cold washcloth. This he lays over my forehead, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and patting my hand. "Now, then, doesn't that feel better? As the adage goes, 'Starve a cold, feed a fever'. When you're ready for some lunch, just tell me. Shall I get you some water?"  
  
I put my free hand up to the washcloth and bring it down over my eyes. "Hakkai, listen carefully. If, at the end of my statement, I am lying, you may pitch me naked out into the snow."  
  
Hakkai laughs. "It sounds like somebody has a cold fetish."  
  
I lift the washcloth and stare, stymied, into his face. "Just an expression. But seriously, listen here. I. Am. _Not_. Sick. Although you seem determined to believe it, I'm fine. Fit as a fish...fritter...fit as a thing."  
  
Hakkai gives a long-suffering sigh and wraps his hands around the waistband of my pants. That right there sends the warning bells singing, and I bring my hands down hard over his. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I think I sound a bit too frantic, but Hakkai's fixing to hitch my pants off and I've not been clued in to this portion of today's schedule.  
  
Hakkai smiles brightly and responds, "I'm getting ready to pitch you naked out into the snow." He releases my pants and clasps my hands together beneath his. "Now please, Gojyo, no more games. You need rest and care so you can get over this as quickly as possible." He stands up and adds, "If you need anything, just call me. Please get some rest. I'll go out shopping later on for some painkillers. You took them all last time you had a hangover." He smiles gently and leaves me to myself, though the lack of privacy simply means he's walked a few yards away. I roll over and put my head on my arm to watch him.  
  
He grabs the unfinished plate of pancakes I left on the table and goes to wash it off in the sink. He tries to remain quiet and unobtrusive as possible, knowing there are virtually no walls in this place. When the plate is dried and resting in the rack, he takes a look out the window and sighs a bit. He goes to the closet, grabs his coat and a broom, and goes outside to clear the snow from the porch.  
  
The sounds of his sweeping are rhythmic enough to be comforting. It's so hot in here. I sit up and yank the window open, laying spread-eagled on the bed to try and cool down. Hakkai and I both well know that someone with a fever is bodily cold and will coccoon himself in as many blankets as possible. We don't have many blankets. When one of us is fevered, body heat is the best we can do. Tempted as I am, the entire evening would be filled with uncomfortable self-restraint.  
  
I get onto my knees, rest my elbows on the sill, and relax with my head half out the window. We're so alone out here, just the two of us and miles of snow. This house is more like one big room, really, so we don't ever really get away from one another. I'll go outside and smoke, he'll curl up somewhere with a book, and that's about all the alone-time we're afforded in here. I've slept tangled up with his body more times than I can count. More often now that it's winter and the heater's on the fritz. Every once in a while, it'll cut out. Whoever happens to be sleeping on the couch that night then goes and crawls under the covers with the one in bed. Sometimes Hakkai won't do it, and that's when I get up and drag him into bed with me. He shouldn't freeze just because he thinks he'll wake me up.  
  
Hakkai comes back inside, leaving the broom on the porch and shrugging out of his coat. He clears his throat, but I keep my head on my hands and relax in the outside air. I hear him put his coat away and walk over to me. I jump when his hands land on my shoulders.  
  
"Dammit, you're colder than I am!" I turn to glare at him and his expression is equally accusing.  
  
"Then what are you doing hanging out the window?"  
  
I frown. "Have you noticed? I'm sweating. People with fevers don't sweat! Am I slurring? Hallucinating? Have I even sneezed once today? I'm fine!" I gesture out the window with an open hand. "The only thing that's wrong with me is the heat in here!"  
  
Hakkai smiles sweetly. This look is dangerous. He says, "Well, I feel fine. Come on, Gojyo, back under the covers with you."  
  
I refuse to give in, sick of being supposedly sick. "Maybe you're the one with the fever. You've got it set at a hundred degrees because _you_ are cold." He shakes his head and is about to chastise my accusation when I hold up both hands and come to stand in front of him. "Now, now, you've gotta let me check, Hakkai." I take his face in both hands and am about to feel his forehead when he wrenches his head up to look me in the eye. I can't stop myself and my lips, poised to check for temperature, collide with his open mouth.  
  
I'm not sure who's more shocked. I'm really not. We're frozen with my hands holding his face and his hands on my forearms. We're frozen in what must be a kiss, though I can't move. I start laughing. I can't help it, I start laughing. I keep laughing and finally get my lips to Hakkai's forehead. He's blushing harder than I had been and his temperature's through the roof. I laugh harder.  
  
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, rest my forehead against his neck, and laugh until my face hurts. He brings his hands up to pat my shoulders, grab my shoulders, force me up to look at him.  
  
"You're feverish," I say, and chuckle again. "Must of given you my bug, huh?"  
  
Hakkai sets his mouth in a straight line. "You find this all hilariously funny?"  
  
I grin. "Of course I do! I just missed, is all. And you're stiffer'n a board. Loosen up, Hakkai; it's good for you." I lean back a little and plop down onto the bed, if only to get my body away from his. "Now d'you believe I'm not sick?"  
  
"I believe you aren't ill," responds Hakkai. And then he smiles a bit. "I'd always thought your aim was dead-on, Gojyo."  
  
I shrug. "All the practice with the ladies must have given me a biased target area. Bad habits, huh?" I grin at him and he chuckles. I get up and walk past him to grab my discarded slippers.  
  
"Gojyo?" he calls, and I turn to face him, grabbing a slipper between my toes. He bears a thoughtful look, one I'm familiar with. He's putting two and two together about my fever, I know he is. "Let me make sure I understand. What I thought was a high temperature due to illness was really due to... Gojyo, you stupid, stupid boy."  
  
I go for playing dumb. "What are you talking about?" I ask, and wait for the gauntlet to fall.  
  
"Do you realize how strange it's going to make things? Well, I suppose we've survived the constant rumors for this long. Of course, nobody comes back here. And there _is_ only one bed..."  
  
I nearly fall over. "Are you being _pragmatic_ and _practical_ about the pros and cons of sleeping with me?"  
  
Hakkai smiles brightly. "Only to make you impatient enough that I should hear the suggestion out of your mouth. Come on, Gojyo, don't look like that. I've known about you for a while, and..."  
  
I blink, trying to focus on two things at once. "A while? What while? Hold the...hold the phone, are you telling me you _want_ to try it again? Even after...after everything else?" I can't bring myself to say it in front of him. Not until he brings it up on his own.  
  
"You can't be alone forever. I don't think I'm that sort of person." He smiles, sad and soft. "There is already care here, though."  
  
He's right. He always is. There is care in here, affection and friendship and some strange semblance of understanding. It's how the world has worked for the past couple of years, and how, until just recently, I would have been content for it to continue. But I _like_ kissing him. "I'm on the fence," I say. "Your call."  
  
"Don't do that," he returns. I sigh and cross my legs on the bed.  
  
"Okay, we look at it like this: if we get sick of it, we can always stop. Friends first and foremost. Right?"  
  
Hakkai shakes his head. "It's not that simple."  
  
"I know that." I rest my elbow on my knee and put my head on my hand. "Do you wa-ant me?" I tease. He shoots a glare at me, but I continue. "Do you think I'm se-exy? Do you want to lo-ove me? Ki-iss me? To-ouch me?"  
  
He shakes his head at the way I can't take the situation seriously. He moves to walk away, and I'm on my feet with my arms around his waist and my mouth on his neck. I'm laughing and kissing him and he's utterly, completely tense and shocked. It's kind of fun to make him seize up like that.  
  
"You're a bastard, you know that?"  
  
"Mm. Don't bring my folks into this. We've got an entire day to waste." I make him relax against me and I laugh comfortably against his cheek. His back presses into my chest and I can feel him laughing as well. "Unless you've got your own agenda."  
  
"Of course I do," he responds, contenting himself with being unable to look at me. "I've still got some shopping to do, this house is a mess, and since you really aren't sick, you can help me shovel the walk." I groan in disdain and Hakkai smiles. "Once all of that is finished," he continues, reaching up to pat my cheek, "I thought we could relax with some warm drinks and enjoy the afternoon." The hand on my cheek goes further back to playfully tug at a little of my hair. "Sound good?"  
  
I let out a huff and tug at the hem of his shirt. "Yeah, yeah, good enough. I'm running out of cigarettes anyhow."  
  
"Good. Now, let's see." He tics off the supplies he needs, all while standing comfortably in my arms. It's good touching him. "We need more coffee beans, some instant, too. Preserves and pickles would be good, and we're running low on meat, as well. And cooking oil. Lots and lots of cooking oil." He untangles himself from me and goes to grab our coats, but not before shooting a look back at me that is at once mischievous and affectionate at the same time.  
  
Did I detect a wink? I can't help but grin incredulously, slip out of my pajama pants and dig around for some jeans. Shoveling the walk might be worth it, for the cold and clarity of working outside. Working for the prize of stifling warmth once I'm allowed back in.  
  
It's cold out, and I feel feverish. 


End file.
